The Book of 'Luke'
by Celeste K. Raven
Summary: *SPOILER ALERT* The words between these pages are biased. The name on the cover is a lie. These are the writings (journal entries) of Clive Dove as he impersonates a twenty-three year old Luke Triton.
1. Inside Cover

This journal belongs to...

Luke Triton 

_**The words between these pages are biased. The name on the cover is a lie. These are the writings of Clive Dove as he impersonates a twenty-three year old Luke Triton.** _


	2. Day One (Pages 1-8)

******This story contains major spoilers for Professor Layton and the Unwound Future, and probably won't make much sense unless you've played it. There is also a bit of langue. You have been warned!**

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**Day One**

**5:32pm - The Gilded Seven Casino**

Today I am Luke Triton. I write this from a barstool at the Gilded 7 Casino – Bostro's turf. That man detests me. I sit here unbothered only because Dimitri demands that I have the run of the city. Bostro's efforts to derail me have been limited to unspoken threats and puzzle locks. It has been a long time goal of mine to find the bloke who imagines these puzzles for him.

This place is infested with members of the Family. They saunter around cracking knuckles and eyeing me in my new get-up.

The plastic band that circles the inside of my cap tickles my scalp. My shoes squeeze a half-size too tight. New London has a limited amount of clothing stores – precisely, two. Neither sell Luke Triton costumes, so I made do with what could be found here. I have not left New London in many months; the thought of doing so now leaves me cold.

Shipley has informed me that Layton is currently visiting a patient at the Green Hospital, which means Don Paulo is making use of the Schrader outfit he's 'always wanted to try'. To my understanding, Don Paulo used to be one of Dr. Schrader's students, but Schrader only had eyes for one pupil; Hershel Layton. Don Paulo must be a weak soul if that is what drives him to hide behind his personas.

**6:08pm – The Gilded Seven Casino **

Shipley is tailing Layton to the entrance of the casino; I'll have to take it from there. They are eight, maybe ten minutes away. I've considered having someone from the Family stop Luke at the door. This is a casino after all; it would be perfectly natural. The idea would be that if I earned Layton's trust first, the boy would simply follow in his mentor's footsteps.

No. I have nothing to gain by second guessing the plan. It's a result of the nerves, I think. Messy, last minute changes are just that: messy.

Writing in this journal isn't any different from allowing my thoughts to stay in my head; it's not an effective way to waste time. I'm going back to practicing my new role.

**6:17pm – The Gilded Seven Casino **

I'm sitting as Luke would sit. My hand moves with this pen the way I imagine Luke's hands might move. It's the little details like that that I've spent the most time on. I've learned to write with my left hand, although right now it feels unnatural. Maybe it's my sweaty palms.

I think I'm running out of ink.

**7:46pm – Restaurant in the Arcade **

The moment their eyes fell on me, I was an actor coming out onto the stage. The sweaty palms came back. I was concerned that they might hear my heart thumping wildly in my chest.

Perhaps that is a cliché, but it fits the situation perfectly.

I definitely didn't remember _everything_ I practiced, but titbits of information came to me as the night went along. I implement a lesson Mrs. Dove taught me many years ago; _focus on the pennies and the dollars will count themselves. _I don't know why she referred to American money, but whenever my nerves threaten to choke me I focus on some small detail –repositioning my feet or keeping good posture (they seem like gentlemanly things to do)- until I can breathe again.

I believe that Layton met me with an open mind and left me with a troubled one. _Distracting his mind will be the best way to keep him ignorant, _Dimitri said. Dimitri… he is right for once. I'll make it a point to provoke him the next time we meet. I can now say, from experience, that his portrayal of Layton is sadly lacking.

Layton is an intelligent chap, they say, and they're right; he matched me in a battle of wits. Yet he is only one man. He must put my puzzle together one piece at a time, just like everyone else. But Luke… he is the one I'm uneasy about. I've studied him, his past, and his loved ones, but he will always have memories that I do not. He has yet to prove to be himself to be truly bright, but that doesn't mean he's dull. Every child recognizes their own nature, and not every child is Professor Layton's protégé.

The boy is nothing to look at. His hair is thin and mousey brown, and he's got a lot of it. Everything about him is pale with the exception of his eyes, which won't leave me even now. Layton (The professor… I must practice on paper so that I don't slip and call him Layton to his face) is speaking to Paillard, the man who owns this ''fine establishment'', but Luke's only half-listening. He keeps glancing at me like he's afraid I'm going to disappear.

His gaze has a peculiar effect on me. I swear I can hear his thoughts projected into my own head. _That's how long my arms will be. My smile is going to be impish like that._ It's as if my subconscious doesn't want to disappoint him. I find myself stretching my back to make myself taller. I keep my thighs apart and flaunt my knowledge of New London. I was mulling the sensation over when Bostro pulled his little stunt.

Distracting his mind will be the best way to keep him ignorant.

_Distracting his mind will be the best way to keep him ignorant!_

And here I thought _I_ was the one who was going to set up the distractions. Dimitri must have taken matters into his own hands because the Family was on as soon as we made for the door. I could sense them fighting with their excitement, forcing their professional, stoic appearances when we came up from the basement. I should've known then. Lord, Bosto's voice when he ordered them to fire… it was like a teenager starting a food fight.

Nothing but the casino itself was harmed, of course. Dimitri is ironically opposed to murder. I supposed I should be irritated; I paid for those slot machines out of my own pocket… but I have deep pockets. No doubt Dimitri meant nothing more than to boost my authenticity and _distract_ Layton.

The professor is done speaking with Paillard. I suppose now is when I get to introduce Shipley.

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**This story was edited by my amazing beta Cleaver Girl. Thank you in advance to those of you who will review. I'd really like to know what your favorite quote is from each chapter.**

**Write On!**


	3. Day Two (Pages 9-16)

**Day Two**

**8:37am – The Tunnel under the Thames**

I met Shipley on the topside. I was still writing for the paper then. Shipley was my editor, his wife was an agony aunt, and they were both scraping the bottoms of their bowls for that last filling bite. I bribed Shipley with the thing that he needed most - money. More pounds than he had ever hoped to see in his life. He was by my side when I got my first good look at Dimitri. He sat on my hand so Dimitri wouldn't notice that it was shaking.

Shipley has an unfortunate role down at the Research Facility. He often carries bad news. Yesterday he spoke of an uprising on Dimitri's side of the plan. The scientists are growing restless. They want to know how much longer they must labour before the time machine will be able to send them back to their families. Whispers that Dimitri is confused or has misled them are plaguing the halls. Shipley said Dimitri wants to meet with me this morning.

''I will not be easily accessible once Layton arrives,'' I told him several weeks ago. ''If you want to shove off another 'side project' on me, do it now.''

He will not listen to me anymore. He knows how close he is; he's giddy with the knowledge. He's a bumbling fool… but I'll meet with him anyway. Our scientists are single-minded, just like their Layton-masquerading brother. They don't see any difference between us. Rebellion against Demitri is rebellion against me.

I've told Luke and the professor that I need time to secure a path into the Towering Pagota. Meanwhile, they'll be wondering their way towards China Town with Shimpley close on their heels. I don't need him at the facility while I'm there.

**1:15pm – The Research Facility**

Dimitri Allen (Dim-ee-tree Al-in) Proper noun. 1. The man who is responsible for the death of my parents 2. A scientist

Dimitri is not a particularly imposing figure, but I've never known him to look as fierce as when I stepped into his room for our little meeting. He was red faced and nose-to-nose with Claire, calling her a berk with a wild look in his eyes. They weren't fighting about stabilizing her for once.

Claire went to see the professor. Ha!

''I passed him on the way to China Town! I'm not your prisoner in this time or any other; don't question me about the places I go.''

She stormed out all indignant-like without a glance at me, every inch a stubborn, fiery scientist. I stared after her in amusement. Dimitri had such an ugly look on his face that I thought he might start snarling like a dog. Then he turned his attention on me and rage turned to simple displeasure.

_''… You have a slippery tongue, do you not? Go and speak to our workforce. Boost morale and encourage them to obey me.''_

There were some ramblings about wormholes and pacification in there too, but that's the main reason he called me: to request that I prepare some grand speech for his damn crew! They follow my instructions just fine.

_''Ruddy gits,''_ he called them. _''They do not understand the true nature of my cunning!''_

I wouldn't understand it either if I hadn't seen the blueprints myself. I told him as much. Naturally, he refuses to allow me to present his original plans, but I'm to display a slightly altered version this evening.

_''London's ''best and brightest'' should be able to notice these alterations – and possibly fix them in their own minds. They'll know for sure that you're mad.''_

_''They'll keep quiet or else lose their tongues.'' _

_''You know why we haven't used those methods before.''_

_''Bribery then. You're a fan of that one, aren't you?'' _

_''You spend my money only because I allow it, remember that. I'll show them these incomplete plans of yours, and send any questions back to you. Deal with them how you will.'' _

Dimitri will throw a fit when he finds out that I handed the altered blueprints off to Claire. He does his best to keep her out of the facility and inside the Towering Pagota. The scientists have orders not to speak directly to her; should she become attached to them she might be tempted to tell them the truth about New London. That's his logic, at least. If she was going to tell, she would've done so by now. I don't have time to stick around the facility; I must meet back up with Luke and the Professor.

**12:13am – The Hotel Duke**

It's technically day three of my charade, but refusing to admit the obvious is one of the many wonders of the human mind. Also, technicalities don't count at twelve in the morning.

I woke to a soft tickle on my eye. It was a comfort to take out my contacts -which hide the true blue-gray of my irises- and run my hands through the sticky gel that shapes Luke's awkward cowlick. I dyed my hair brown just yesterday, and it still shocks me when I get a glance of my reflection. By the time my brown has grown out to blonde, Dimitri and Bill Hawks will be dead, both Londons will be gone and I'll have decided what to do with the time machine. But, at this moment (when I should be sleeping), blonde seems a long way off….

My eyes are tired like Luke's and the professor's. Those two look around New London with glazed, mournful eyes that seek anything familiar. They have no idea that the London they've been separated from is –was- just above their heads.

They're back in that London right now. They wanted to speak with some buffoon inspector, and I saw my best chance at sending them away so I could deal with the scientists. Our brilliant little workers were not very impressed by Dimitri's blueprints. The homesick society that inhabits New London is slowly starting to wake from its stupor. I doubt that Dimitri's time machine plan will hold together another month. All the better that my own machine will be ready in just a few days.

I have a room at the Towering Pagota, and there's always an empty dorm at the Research Facility, but I've rented a room at this hotel to prevent awkward questions. If need be, I'll tell them that I prefer to move around rather than to stay still and wait for the Family to find me. I believe that there is no hook, line and sinker with the professor. He believes everything and nothing that he is told. His behavior does not necessarily reflect the process going on in his head. He questioned my easy access to the time machine, and then took my inadequate answer without batting an eyelash. It frustrates me that I do not know how much time I have. Maybe, after only two days of being Luke Triton, my time is already up and he's just not prepared to reveal me yet.


	4. Day Three (Pages 17-22)

**Day Three**

**11:23am - The Hotel Duke**

I had originally planned to eat breakfast alone this morning. Shipley –the only person who would actually _want_ to eat with me- followed the professor and my past self to the topside yesterday. There is no one else in this city that I would label as a 'friend'. I've had to keep a frustratingly low profile in New London; I hardly speak to anyone besides Shipley and Dimitri.

Well, there's also Claire, who waltzed into the hotel restaurant and puked her emotions all over me this morning.

She is attractive in a gentle way. Not sexy, beautiful. Her hair is often thrown into a messy ponytail; her smile is shy. Her eyes sparkle and burn along with her mood. I can see why Dimitri fell for her.

Claire told me that Dimitri allowed the Family to beat Art after he breached the height limit with that grocery store by the clock shop. Art is at the head of all construction in New London. He must have had a strong motive for breaking the rules when the punishment was so harsh.

The height limit was created to protect New London's identity. At the border of any topside city a person might view a lovely, flourishing meadow, or a maze of crowded streets. In New London we see cave wall. Where New London ends, planet earth appears to just… stop, which threatens the illusion that I've created. Several false roads and bridges to nowhere have been built for this reason. We even have a false sky, although that was Dimitri's creation, so it's mostly a smoke-and-mirrors sort of thing. I was all for keeping it black and leaving people to whine about pollution.

But I digress.

Claire, of course, was more concerned with Dimitri's growing use of violence, which got her on the topic of how much her schoolmates had changed without her, which lead to: _''…and Hershel. He was so close yesterday I could've touched him.''_

Shipley hadn't told me that the professor had crossed paths with her again.

Anyway, it could be worse for her. She could've gone a million years into the future, after all her loved ones were gone. She could've found that the professor was fifty and had a wife and children, or that he was one hundred and on his death bed. She has nothing to whine about.

**8:18pm – Some Bench near Granny Riddleton's Shack**

I've been wondering the streets of New London all evening. The last bits of my plan are either falling into place or falling to pieces, but there's nothing that requires my immediate attention. I went to visit Spring and Cogg a few hours ago only to be reminded that they were far above my head, awaiting Luke and the professor's return - just as I am.

I once thought that Spring and Cogg weren't worth the pounds I bribed them with; then I realized that Spring is a sneak and Cogg is a genius. They've convinced Bostro that he needs them to run the time-machine (which is rubbish) and keep safe by living in Dimitri's peripheral vision. He's aware of that they have control over the only door between the topside and New London, but, by allowing themselves to appear easily bullied by the Family, he is not concerned with them. That, of course, leaves the door wide open for me to make my own dealings with Cogg and Spring. They operate the false time machine on my command –letting Layton up to the real London without Dimitri's knowledge- in return for money and protection. They are aware of my connection with ''Future Professor Layton'' and have asked me to make sure that he does not take action to harm them. I, of course, oblige, although I've had to do nothing to keep my promise so far. They do all right on their own.

It is also worth noting that neither of them know me as Clive.

_''Your mother named a baby, not a man. What's in a name anyway?''_ Cogg told me.

My relationship with Spring and Cogg is not an emotional one, but one based on mutual need. Perhaps names are personal things.

**8:43pm – China Town **

I suppose I'll be sleeping in the Pagota tonight. The Hotel Duke is far away for my tired legs. I should've stayed still today and rested myself for wondering around with the professor.

It is, at least, easier to make my way through the city without the professor's presence. He travels at the speed of snail. Every citizen with a lost look on his face loses _me_ another fifteen minutes. Some have problems, some have puzzles, and some have problematic puzzles. Still others order us around like slaves while the professor encourages Luke to be obedient like a true gentleman.

Rubbish. Luke tries not to show his exasperation, but I can see it in his body language. Evil Layton might be taking over the world, but there's time for a simple multiple choice, isn't there?

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**This chapter is a bit slower, yes? I sort of enjoy the slow chapters the most because it really lets me get into some of the obscure thoughts and relationships that Clive has. **

**Thanks to those of you who are reviewing; your feedback is makes me smile. **

**Write On!**


	5. Day Four (Pages 23-29)

**Day Four**

**7:52am - Heading Toward the Casino **

Shipley wasn't able to contact me in time, so I received a rather nasty surprise when the professor arrived with _two_ teenagers in tow.

It was peculiar to finally be introduced to Flora Reinhold, almost like meeting a ghost. I didn't catch wind of her existence until four weeks after I started studying Luke. She was mentioned –very briefly- in one of the many newspaper articles featuring the professor. I poured all my energy into seeking information about her, but only found two more sources where she was mentioned in passing… and a certificate of adoption.

I don't know what the professor's reason was for adopting a child; he was already taking care of Luke full time, which is odd enough itself. I have also yet to find out what system he pulled her from. Perhaps, with ample time and a careful tongue, I'll be able to milk her for her history. I have an odd sense that I would recognize what I heard.

As for right now, she seems to be more of a nuisance than something of interest. The four of us are heading toward the casino (this is our second bathroom break) because we've found a use for Luke's feathered friend. Bostro placed two of his goons outside the entrance to China Town to irk me and we need a recording of his voice in order to send them packing.

Luke and the professor insist on walking side-by-side, which is awkward because Flora keeps trying to slip in between them. They take turns giving Flora nervous stares; her presence here clearly disturbs them. Perhaps they think she is a danger to herself. Flora comes across as a bit… ditzy. She gawks at the world around her with the combined innocence and ignorance of an infant. My running theory: she was orphaned at a young age and never got the chance to be socialized.

Shipley will soon be out spying for me again. He has expressed concern that Don Paulo is not trustworthy (which he probably is) and that he needs to be monitored (which he probably doesn't). Don Paulo may have ulterior motives, but he does not play any essential part in my plans. I'm going to send Shipley after Inspector Chelmey and his assistant instead.

This much I know:

- The professor has solved many of Chelmey's cases for him.

- He is very proud to be a part of the Scotland Yard.

- He loves his wife with 'a passion never felt by most mortal hearts' (or so says _The Times)_.

- He is gruff, unyielding, and not all that fond of our dear professor.

- He could make a good ally – or a bothersome enemy.

I won't act until I have Shipley's opinion.

**8:14am – Heading Towards Chinatown**

Luke asked me the question about five minutes ago.

_''You're me… if you're me in the future, then you already know what's going to happen from here on out. You went through this ten years ago.''_

My answer was smooth, well-rehearsed; simple. His present is not the past that I remember. Luke Triton's past has been changed by the use of the time machine.

Luke

- Cheeky

- Short

- Intelligent

- Rash

- Polite (when he decides to be)

- Animal friend

**8:27am – Heading Towards Chinatown**

I don't remember why I had to practice that answer. Is time travel difficult for kids to understand?

Luke is more of a teenager than a child… I understood time travel just fine when I was thirteen.

**9:00am – Chinatown**

Some git installed a puzzle counter on the gate to Chinatown, and I'd bet my fortune that they did it under Bostro's orders. In fact, I bet it was Ward. He is one of the few independent thinkers in the Family. Bostro knows Ward is vying for his job and likes to keep him at a distance. They clash constantly, agreeing only on one thing: me. Bostro probably set Ward to tailing us as a punishment. His beady eyes follow us everywhere – Layton's noticed it too. It's making him antsy. I wonder if this is enough to convince Dimitri that his second-in-command is interfering with our plans…

Eh, I doubt it. Dimitri finds our distaste for each other reassuring. Ha! Bostro is barely a distraction. We had already solved enough puzzles to make it through the gate, and that's not the only good news I have to share. I've figured out why I'm so set on pleasing Luke with my impression of  
his future self: he will be more likely to believe if he _wants _to believe.

It shouldn't have bothered me as much as it did, but I like to think there's a reason for everything I do.

**4:24pm – Pepper's Noodle Palace (Chinatown) **

A quarter past four and we've got two splitting headaches, an annoying cough and a suspected case of diarrhoea. We've stopped to eat at some hole-in-the-wall which just so happens to be a common Family hangout.

A Family member who I recognized as Jonah Shoup was leaning back with his feet on a table when we walked in. He nearly fell backwards off his chair when he realized who I was. He hasn't stopped eyeballing me nervously since (probably thinks I'll go tattle tailing to his boss).

Perceptive Professor Layton noticed his stares and looked at me questioningly, so I leaned over and whispered: _''I'm pretty well known for opposing Layton, especially among the Family. Don't worry though; he can't do anything when he's so outnumbered. Plus, your presence keeps us all safe even when mine endangers us. Future Layton won't risk killing his past self.''_

Hopefully he won't consider the events at the Gilded 7 and question my logic.

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** aRandomCommenter: Lurking around a story is common; I do quite a bit of it myself, shame on me. :) Thank you for reviewing though, I'm so glad to have impressed you so far. I'll definitely keep writing!**

**Thanks to the rest of you also. I love hearing what your favorite quotes are. **

**Write On!**


	6. Day Five (Pages 30-37)

**Day Five**

**2:40am – The Hotel Duke**

There are things in this notebook that confuse me. I have a lot of knowledge but no… insight. There are faces that are not properly linked to any name in particular. Who is Clive?

I have a shimmering scar on my left hip, and I don't know where it came from. When I took out my contacts a few hours ago, my eyes were blue.

**3:46am – The Hotel Duke**

I dreamed that my mother had red hair. She came home to a small apartment in a crowded building with an angel's smile on her face. I think it was near Christmas time or a birthday because she had a present in her hands. I wanted to reach for it, but my father covered my eyes.

_''Wait,'' _he said. _''Wait just a little longer.'' _

My mother had amber eyes. I look nothing like her; I look like my father. He wore glasses and he dyed his hair dark to chase away the blonde. He adored my blonde, though. My mother wanted to have another blonde child, but he didn't want any more kids. Probably because mum only brought home one present. There was no gift for a brother\sister.

I remembered that my mother had red hair. She came home to a small apartment…

**7:21am - The Hotel Duke**

Good News: the professor and my past self aren't early risers

Bad News: Flora is

She was pounding on my door at six this morning. Her hair was tousled; her eyes were intense and faintly bloodshot. She reminded me of Claire. My own hair was greasy and my chest was bare, but Flora only had eyes for my face. She was talking before I even opened the door.

_''If the present professor were to die, wouldn't that stop him from doing evil in the future?''_

That was how I learned that she isn't as ditzy as she appears. It came out in a feverish rush, so she had to repeat herself twice her meaning dawned upon me. If I wanted to pick Flora's brain for some sign of intelligence, now was the time. I asked her to step inside my room.

I explained to her that killing the professor in her present might not have the desired effect on the one in mine, since, in theory, the future Little Luke and her have ahead of them doesn't have to be my present. And, if killing her professor didn't immediately kill mine too, we'd have lost the only person capable of defeating him.

She digested this in silence, and then, slowly, she nodded.

_''Not to mention you'd lose your foster father,'' _I had said, taking a small risk.

Flora didn't rise to the bait though. She only asked me another question I hadn't expected to hear from of her mouth; _''Luke… in this future am I, you know, dead?''_

_''I don't know. I hope not.'' _

**8:17am – Outside the Duke Hotel**

We're heading down to the River Thames today, which is horrifically close to the underground tunnel. Dimitri's not ready for them yet. He might panic and harm one of them should they come uncomfortably close to the faculty – and to Claire.

I'll just have to make sure they don't.

**8:54am – Riverside **

Little Luke's animal… abilities have come in handy twice this morning. First when a bee took too much interest in Flora's fruity perfume, second with a gnarly looking rabbit named Subject Three. I was very impressed by Luke's skills.

Sometimes I think I remember being a talented little boy who was sure of his own aptitude… but it's all sort of blurred.

**10**:**35am - ?**

Questions That I Can't Ask

- Did I steal the money I used to create New London?

- Did I used to be Luke Triton?

- Does Hershel know who I am? Does Shipley?

- Who don't I want to be?

**12:13pm – Outside the Thames Arms**

Dimitri has always been drawn to the sound of rushing water. When Bostro insisted that a safe house be built near the Thames, Dimitri was determined to have a turn playing the part of the barkeep himself. And when the first costumer recognized him and left the restaurant shaking from head to toe, he came grudgingly to me. I began teaching him how to control his emotions and body language by candlelight (most of New London didn't have electricity that that point). Everything Dimitri knows about acting he's learned from me, which is proof that his listening skills are defective.

I could feel the beam of his smile from the other side of the room when he shared his puzzle with Layton. After that little excitement he went back to fiddling with a glass. His hands were shaking because he was so nervous.

That, or his hands were shaking with the power of his hatred, which would be equally pathetic.

**2:08pm – Here, There, and Everywhere**

I think the sensible part of my mind recognizes that it's really thick of me to carry this journal, this evidence that I am Clive, around the way I do. Gentleman keep records of their adventures; it's part of the role I have to play, but Luke's never seemed too enthralled with it, so I shouldn't either.

Had I expected myself to become so attached to it I would've purchased a thicker journal.

**4:44pm – The Bridge **

The professor is, to a certain extent, the person I'd presumed he'd be: a polite, collected, English gentleman. Yet there is a layer to him that I had not considered until today. It's a look-but-don't-touch attitude he carries in his body movements. It is a fleeting thing –most of the time he carries himself with ease- but I'm always catching it out of the corner of my eye.

I wonder if Luke will end up the same way if he keeps to the path he's on, or if it's part of being Layton.

* * *

**This update is in celebration of my best Christmas gift; Professor Layton and the Miracle Mask! **

**Write On!**


	7. Day Six (Pages 38-44)

**Day Six**

**10:11am – The Duke Hotel**

Shipley's verdict came with a one-fingered salute; _''Sending me after Chelmey and Barton was a bloody waste of my time. Neither man knows his butt from his face.'' _

He's a bit irritated with me, I think. I sent him back to the facility so he can stew somewhere out of the way. The action is moving towards the Towering Pagota; I have informed Dimitri that we will be arriving today. Ready or not, here we come.

**1:17pm – Chinatown **

Ward met us with a smirk at the Pagota Gate. He was set there by Dimitri, not Bostro. For the first time I actually wondered whether Dimitri plans on sacking Bostro. Ward is the quicker and more intelligent of the two - which should _disturb_ Demitri, not please him.

I shouldn't mind either way; this game is almost over. But if I had my pick, Bostro would keep his position.

The professor is missing in action for the moment; he took off as soon as we passed through the gate, leaving me alone to babysit. Luke is concerned; Flora is a fiery ball of hysteria… most of the time. But not now. Either she knows where he is or she's comfortable enough in my hands not to care. Yesterday morning's conversation did some good.

The professor is not familiar with this area. He can't know where he's going. The Family reigns here; they might hurt him if they find him alone and distracted.

I don't have the option of waiting for him, or leaving to seek him out. I hate that.

**1:31pm – The Towering Pagota, Floor Two**

_A_ Professor Layton has returned to us, but he's not ours (and he's not Dimitri). His eyes are hot and they look at Luke as if they want to burn him. He speaks a little too roughly. And whoever he is, he knows something about me. I wish I could see the data Dimitri's memory goggles picked up.

I have no more time to write.

**3:07pm – Headed for ''Second Base''**

I'm on my way to meet Dimitri. Not at the Towering Pagota – at the Research Facility.

The professor revealed Dimitri almost immediately, but he didn't even mention me. Luke, Flora, the not-quite-Professor and I were ''captured'' by Dimitri, who didn't even try to keep up the charade. Unimpressive.

The not-quite-Professor ripped his face off and revealed himself to be Don Paulo. Dimitri didn't seem too disappointed at his betrayal. Then the real Professor came in –probably having walked straight up the stairs, unaffected by the puzzles _we solved for him_- and freed us easily. I don't know why Dimitri didn't take us as prisoners; he'd have been able to take Layton's memories by force that way. Instead he taunted us with Bill Hawks (who was drugged and drooling like a blubbery child), set the Family on us, and escaped. We all got out just fine, of course. Dimitri definitely has another card to play, and I'd bet my fortune it's Claire.

The tunnels we escaped by were too small to fit all of us a once, so Flora and I had to break off from the group. The tunnel was tight and dripping with foul water. Flora's death grip is still imprinted on my arm.

Shipley met me in the hotel lobby as soon as we stepped inside. I didn't have a hope for good news.

_''The big shot is furious. Something happened to… Celeste. He wants your presence at second base, and he's not asking.''_

Is Claire's state finally so unstable that she must leave our time period? If so, I doubt Dimitri would want me to ruin the mood of their final farewell. Maybe he's decided to stabilize her forcibly… or maybe her need to stay on this Earth with Layton finally kicked in and she's going through with it willingly.

The Research Facility must be in chaos because Shipley didn't even rub it in that he was right about Don Paulo before heading off again.

**6:20pm – The Research Facility**

Nothing happened _to _Claire, Claire caused a problem herself. She left the facility and wondered about New London until she was spotted by Inspector Chelmey, then she hurried over to the facility, where she remained in such a state of hysteria that one of the scientist alerted Shipley.

Sounds like something Flora would do.

This, of course, would have had nothing to do with me if Dimitri wasn't so close to finishing the time machine. He knows that even if he loses Claire in the present he can still have her in the past. It would be in his best interested to get rid of present-but-belonging-to-past Claire, but he can't because he's in love with her. Or he's in lust with her… I'm not sure at this point. Dimitri just needs a safe place to put Claire until he's finished with the time machine. But instead of a jail or a freezer, he decided to shove her off on me.

_''Something's wrong with her,''_ he said. _''The Claire I knew wasn't like that – she never panicked. Her mind isn't what it should be. I fear she will fade soon. Keep an eye on her and report back to me if there's any critical change in her condition. We're so close, Clive. A few wires, some redirected currents, Hershel's memories… and it's all over.''_

_I'll finish my machine before he finishes his, if only by a hair. He's right; we're very close to the end. When I think about it I get this little shiver down my spine._

_''I know how to corner Layton, but keep your little costume on; Big Luke might be just the right character to give him an extra push.''_

* * *

**Anyone have thoughts on Dimitri's actions thus far? Is he being selfish for keeping Claire close, or just giving into the urge to try and protect her? **

**Write On!**


	8. Day Seven (Page 45-51)

**Day Seven**

**6:19am – Dorms, the Research Facility **

My favorite color is cobalt blue.

My favorite animal is the lynx.

I've never been fond of music.

Constance used to coax me to sleep with the sound of her voice. She read dull, historical fiction. I would try to fall asleep before she got to the romance parts.

Manners are for those who had parents to teach them.

I am Clive Dove.

I'm Clive Dove.

I'm weak for letting my new role play with my mind. It's so easy, so lovely, to be Luke Triton.

**9:46pm – Austin's Bed and Breakfast**

My meeting with Dimitri left me mentally exhausted yesterday, so I slept in an empty dorm at the facility. I dreamed about my parent again. I was my father this time, and I held my baby boy in my arms. His sweet breath fogged up my glasses and tickled my nose. His eyes were shiny and drenched in love…or maybe I was just imagining them that way.

I was only asleep for six minutes, but the dream felt like it lasted for hours. My dream self didn't do anything but hold my child and feel my heart ache with adoration, but it was enough. It sent me out of the dormitories and down a couple levels to visit Bill Hawks.

Dimitri made me swear that I would leave Bill alone sometime in the days before his kidnapping happened.

_''I loathe him too, Clive, but he's an asset.''_

_''They'll come faster if they think he's being tortured.''_

_''No. They won't. Layton will do anything to protect Luke; he'll get distracted if the child is put in too much danger.''_

_''You're grasping at straws.''_

_''When this is all over, and Claire is safe, we'll sneak off and have some fun with him. Promise me.''_

I promised.

I didn't break my promise, either; I did not harm him physically. I stared at him silently for the first minute, mulling things over.

Dimitri locked Bill in one of the storage rooms after moving him out of the Pagota. He was covered in a white lab coat; his limbs were wrapped together with wire and rope. Someone somewhere is assigned to tend to him daily, but I don't know who. Every part of me swelled with emotion at the sight of him, but crying or screaming was never an option. I was determined to remain collected no matter what; like the professor.

Of course, that didn't mean that I hadn't reduced my standards to immature taunts by the time Claire opened the door.

She was surprised to find me there, sarcastically asking the Prime Minister about his wife. He hadn't responded to me the entire time, although his mouth was not gagged. I swear he smirked at me when he Claire came up and put her hand on my shoulder.

_''This isn't good for you, Clive.'' _

Her voice was like honey; dripping, sugary, sweet. It calmed me. I stepped back when she came closer to Bill, but my hands moved to slap hers away when she pulled at his retrains.

_''No one deserves this, Clive. I'll put them back in a moment.''_

I watched him twist his wrists to get his circulation moving. The winding rope deign had carved deep into his skin and left it purple. I noticed that Claire left the duct tape (I'm guessing they ran out of wires; I would've suggested hot glue) around his ankles alone. Bill didn't smile or thank her, but after a few silent minutes he stretched his arm out in her general direction. First I got the odd impression that he wanted a hug; then I realized that he was waiting for her to retie him.

Her knots were secure.

_''You make a regular event of this, don't you,'' I asked her. _

_''Yes.''_

Silence.

_''We should leave now.''_

Outside the door she asked me if Dimitri had asked me to watch her. I had no desire to lie.

_''I'm following Hershel, so if you want to come with me you'll follow him too.''_

I didn't have to chase her. I could've stayed in the facility and told Dimitri to jump a bridge. But the facility is loud and stale and full of scientists; outside was slightly humid. She didn't protest when I caught up with her. We were probably the stealthiest people under the false sun today; Claire wasn't willing to run into Chelmey again.

There were only a few hours of sunlight left when we arrived in China Town.

_''This is absurd; thirty minutes more and we'll have to walk all the way back to where we came from,'' I said. _

_''Not true. I have a friend here. I don't need Dimitri to tuck me in.'' _

One day wasted, one night spent at Austin's Bed and Breakfast. Claire is with her mysterious 'friend' down the street. We didn't even find Layton until he was leaving for the hotel. Heading there would've been one more waste; at least we're all set for optimum stalking when the sun rises.

* * *

**Random Fact: Clive can fit 150 words on each page. The journal is actually average sized; his letters are just big.**

**Write On!**


	9. Day Eight (Pages 52-56)

**Day Eight**

**5:20pm – China Town**

We chased the professor up and down China Town all morning. Claire wouldn't explain what she was hoping to gain by this, so eventually I stopped asking. She's quite good at blending in with the crowd. I asked her how long she's been sneaking around. She wouldn't answer that either. Claire doesn't seem like the type of woman who would moon after some man, but the way she stares after him… if I caught sight of my parents wondering the streets of New London, I would gaze at them just like that.

Claire questioned me about Layton. I feel like I've forgotten more about him then she will ever know. I hope that isn't true. She was also curious about Luke and Flora. How long had they been living with the professor? What were their temperaments like? She admitted that when she first saw Luke she had assumed that he was the professor's child by another woman.

_ ''Wrong. Flora was adopted and Luke's parents are Clark and Brenda Triton.'' _

_''I met Clark through Hershel! We visited Luke in the hospital; I held him in my arms when he only weighed eight pounds.''_

I told her everything I know about Luke, which is a lot. The only thing I kept from her is that just a few days ago I thought I _was_ Luke. I shared what little I know about Flora too. Then I went on about the work out I got running all over town by their sides. I mentioned how Flora had been keeping one eyes open for her future self and that Luke's bird Nico had tried to nest in my hair.

I'd underestimated how much I'd been craving honest human interaction, even with a scientist. The conversation chased after itself meaninglessly until Claire ran out of questions and I ran out of answers to match them. That was when I voiced something that had been troubling me yesterday.

_''Why do you ease Bill Hawk's discomfort? He deserves worse than what he's getting now.''_

_ ''I don't think you believe that. No one deserves to be kidnapped, kept away from their family and shoved into a storage room to suffer.''_

_''He killed you.'' _

_''And your parents, right? That's what Demitri said. I'm sorry for your loss, but he's only human.'' _

We argued a bit more but got nowhere. It's a shame that she's self- deluded; she has great potential_. No one is perfect_ is not a decent excuse for murder.

**9:23pm – The Thames Arms **

I'm sitting at a restaurant, and there's not a single other customer or server in sight.

I'm also running out of pages, so I have to write small. Claire and I were followed Layton, Luke and Flora all the way to the tunnel under the Thames, but not until we had given them enough time to reach the other side. Claire started getting frantic quick. She wanted to follow them in and make sure they didn't get caught; I wanted to stay out here and out of the way. They were –are- bound to get captured in there. In fact, they're _supposed_ to get captured; it's the next phase of the plan.

It was then that I retired my life of Claire-shadowing. She went, I stayed. Before she left she said that she'd meet me at the Thames Arms with Layton and Luke in tow. I turned around and headed for the restaurant. It was dark, empty; definitely closed for the night, but Dimitri never locks the door. The only crimes committed in New London are carried out by the Family's hands. Now, I wait.

* * *

**There's just no way that Clive and Dimitri -the two men who hate Bill Hawks the most, probably the most in the whole word- would keep him prisoner without aggravating him. :)**

**Write On!**


	10. Day Nine (Pages 57-End)

**Day Nine**

**? – My unnamed machine **

Note that if these words are slightly smeared it's because I'm dripping from head to toe as I write this.

I fell asleep at the Thames Arms last night, right at the table where I last wrote. I woke as Dimitri slinked through the door clothed in his absurd bartender masquerade. He opened his mouth to shriek when he saw me but controlled himself at the last moment.

_''Shouldn't you be heading out to meet Hershel and his fan club?''_

_''Should I?''_

_''Claire's with them.'' _

There was a note in my pocket when I stood up to leave. I shot Dimitri a suspicious look, but it turned out to be unfounded.

_It's done. _

_- S._

_PS) Stay where you are, everyone should come to you. DO NOT BE HASTY! You've waited this long. _

Sender: Shipley

Message: My machine is done.

I could've screamed then; I could've jogged to the facility and given every one of those scientists a hug. But that would've fallen under Shipley's category of ''hasty''. Even then I could hear muted mumblings and rocks rolling around the bank; the clue crew was headed my way.

Luke's body motions came to me effortlessly although I hadn't impersonated him in days. I greeted Layton, Luke, Flora, Inspector Chelmey and that plod Barton just outside the restaurant. The story I told was fabricated on the spot; I said I'd been hot on the trail of a suspicious woman. Luke took the bait and identified her as Celeste, confirming my theory; she revealed herself to them in that building. Or, at least partially. I searched Layton fruitlessly for any sign that he knew who she truly was. Unsurprisingly, there was nothing.

That does not mean that he doesn't know.

We were probably the largest group of people ever to have entered the Thames Arms, which is a dusty, distinctly unwelcoming place despite its ideal location. Claire was already there when we opened the door. She must have entered through a back door or else climbed in through a window. Odd, but inconsequential.

I will attempt to summarize what happened next because my hands are shaking hard and this is my second to last empty page.

First, Layton proved that his intelligence could swallow Dimitri's whole. My partner in crime tried to stall with a buff about hidden bombs, but Layton continued to his mouth until he had no more of Dimitri's secrets to share.

Second, he stared on mine; read my own biography out loud to me while I tried to guess when he had officially caught on. Maybe sometime in China Town… I suppose it doesn't matter.

Third, I left the Thames Arms and made for my machine. Sloppy? Yes. Optional? No, not really. Those two cops were gawking at me with open mouths, and I wasn't going to stick around and watch them form the words ''you're under arrest''_._ They wouldn't have been able to seize me anyway –not with backup thousands of meters above their heads- but the combined efforts of the room might have cornered me.

I can picture that; someone –probably Dimitri, for with me out of the way he'd have the power in New London for real this time- taking control of my machine and shutting it down. Or using it for their own means. Or-

It makes me want to throw up.

I wanted to show those people what the machine could do under my instruction, so I made sure they'd follow me. I could've picked Luke or even Claire, but Flora was closest. She didn't fight when I pulled her out of her seat. She was in shock, I think.

My machine is stunning. From a distance it gleamed like slick ice. I had to drag Flora the whole way. At one point she ripped herself out of grasp and, when I caught her again, simply sat her weight down on the ground. When I tugged on her she became limp, much like a child having a temper tantrum. Had there been any spectators it would have been a ridiculous sight.

My machine was built with a convenient prison. It was originally meant for Bill Hawks so that he could see the destruction of his country's capital before his own death, but I know now that there is no way I can wait, not even to seek our accursed the Prime Minister. At any rate, I do not think I can reach him. The Family's forces might be scattered, its strongholds might be left defenseless… or Dimitri may have stepped in and organized them by now.

I had to sit and write this before the finale. I had to stop and calm my mind, else I do something senseless. Also, Layton and his crew needed time to arrive here. My machine tells me that they are on their way to freeing Flora now. I'll give two minutes until show time.

Now that my journal is filled, I don't know what to do with it. The name on the front is no longer appropriate or necessary. I studied Luke for so many months… it is odd to consider that my need for that knowledge has already passed.

Flora is free. Showtime.


End file.
